Shadow Singer
by Alexia Goddess
Summary: She is Shadows. She is the upholder of Legend and Traditions of Old. She is the ultimate Enemy. And she has found her Ultimate Adversary, the Dark Knight, in this modern 'Kingdom,' called Gotham. *COMPLETE!!!*
1. Prologue

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Gotham City.  
  
A rambling, shining city of wealth and prosperity. At least from where  
she was standing. But if she, this being of darkness and shadows, were  
to turn, she would see quite a different side of this giant modern  
kingdom. For a Kingdom it was. You had its Lords, the great and wealthy  
business men. You had your ladies and duchesses; the models and actresses.  
This modern-day kingdom even had its own champion, its own hero of  
legends. The dark knight they called, 'Batman.'  
  
The girl's dark lips curved in a bitterly amused smile.  
  
How cliche.  
  
The girl turned away from the glittering lights of the nighttime city,  
and surveyed the other side of this 'kingdom.' Ah, the peasants and the  
serfs; the less well off citizens of Gotham. She even spied those of  
the rogue; thieves and assassins.  
  
Yes, this massive city was no different than a traditional Kingdom.  
Except for one thing...  
  
A knight or a champion always had their common enemies, the groups of  
nobles or the individiual knight or two jealous of his glory, and this  
Kingdom's dark knight -Batman- had all that, all right. But he was  
missing something...  
  
The one thing that a hero never lacked was one *arch* enemy. One  
adversary that was eternally keeping him on his toes, a competitor that  
matched no other of his enemies.  
  
Herculese had Hera, Zeus; Hades, Saint George; the Dragon, Robin Hood;  
Prince John. The list was endless, and the pattern unmistakable, the  
tradition ever upheld. The single rule ever unbroken.  
  
Again, the girl smiled thinly, and turned away from the poverty of  
Gotham, and into the dim, almost sinister glow of the streetlamps. As  
she thought, she ignored the stares she was recieving. She had long ago  
gotten used to them; she was aware of her eye-catching appearance; long,  
body-hugging black dress, blacker than night and no ornaments, just a  
swooped neckline and four thin straps; one holding the dress up, the  
other three hanging off her shoulders.  
  
Along with her dark red, nearly black lips, shadow-black eyes, snow-  
white skin, and hair so dark it seemed to eat up light like a hungry  
black hole, going to her thights and curling at the ends made her look  
like a demoness...  
  
At least, it would have had it not been for the oddly calming quality  
her prescence had on the pedestrians.  
  
The girl, no more than seventeen, grinned slyly at the particularily  
curious thought of a young man that passed her. Another man she threw  
a dark and sinister look that immediately made him turn his perverted  
fantasies elsewhere.  
  
The girl stopped for a moment at a corner, and spied a couple standing  
at a window at a gift shop. The woman was avidly wishing for a lovely  
black choker, while the man was sweating in his shoes about what to  
offer to buy his fiance for their dating-anniversary. And the woman  
was grabbing for an excuse to mention the choker.  
  
The black haired girl cocked her head in thought. Why not? She decided.  
Telepathy was all very good and well in battle, but every once in a  
while she got tired of using it only for fighting.  
  
Stepping away from the corner and the group of three drooling jocks,  
she swept past the couple, and swiftly, gently, softer than a summer's  
breeze, lifted her slender, pale hand and let the pads of her fingertips  
every so gently brush the nape of the man's neck. The touch was light  
than an angel's kiss, and -apparently- no one noticed, but it was  
enough of a contact to transfer the 'suggestion.'  
  
"How about that choker?" The man spoke, putting an arm around the  
woman's waist as she looked up at him adoringly.  
  
"Oh, Nick, you read my mind! I'd love it!" She cooed, snuggling into  
his embrace. A few feet down the sidewalk, the black haired girl  
chuckled in amusement. With a sigh of emotional regret as she looked  
back at the happy, snuggling couple, her eyes fell, and with barely  
disterbing a whisper of air, she silently slipped back into the shadows  
of an alley from whence she had come.  
  
As she melded back into the darkness, she failed to catch a whisper of  
a thought that wafted through the night air. If one were to follow that  
thought back to its creator, one would have seen a lithe form on a   
rooftop, its eyes narrowed. It had watched the woman with great interest,  
but now that she was gone, the lean black form turned, flared its arms,  
and soared into the sky, until the red shape on its chest was no longer  
visible.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
  
Awfully short and pointless, I know, but did it set the mood? Did that  
obtain the shadowy, mysterious aura I intended or was it just wierd?  
Please review and tell me if you think this is worth continuing! My  
first BB fic!!!! Please be nice! Critism (Note; I said CRITISM *not*  
flames! There is a difference!) and ideas are more than welcome.  
  
  
-Alexia Goddess  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	2. Chapter One

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Cynthia McCain gnawed a lip absently, her only outward sign of her  
extensive nervousness, as she surveyed the place that was to be where  
she would spend most of her next four years.  
  
Hamilton High School.  
  
Life soooo sucked.  
  
So did her parents, for that matter, for plucking her out of he perfect  
life and dumping her here. In a *public* school, no less! Ugh!  
  
Not that Cynthia was a snob, no, she just had very...refined tastes.  
  
Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it with a puff, she shook her  
head, making her earlobe length silky black hair ruffle into place,  
adjusted her books on her shapely hip, smoothed her black mini skirt  
with the twin dark, metallic navy blue stripes along the bottom. She  
lightly tugged her matching top; a black, form hugging tank top. The  
neckline was edged in two twin navy blue, mettallic stripes, and it  
sloped upwards into one thick strap over her left shoulder, the only  
thing holding the top up; her right shoulder was completely bare.  
  
She took a step, and winced as she nearly slipped; dark blue platform  
sandle shoes; not a smart thing to wear when wearing pantyhoes. It was  
a good thing Cynthia had an excellent sense of balance. Eleven years of  
ballet will do that for a girl.  
  
Taking another deep breath to steel her nerves, Cynthia closed her  
eyes, breathed deeply, and when she opened them she took a descisive  
step up the stone stairs leading to the front doors of the school. With  
a haughty toss of her hair, she pushed open the doors and strode in,  
swaying her hips, her long, pale arms elegently looped around her books,  
balancing on her right hipbone, her other arm falling leisurly down at  
side.  
  
As she expected, every eye turned towards her, and she suppressed a  
smirk as she strode confidently down the corridor, as if she owned the  
place. Which, very soon, she practically would. Afterall, her father   
*was* the newly elected mayor.  
  
And from the look of things, it would be much easier to take over this  
public school than her old prestious prep, all girls school had been.  
For the first time in a month, the girl let herself smile slightly.  
  
Perhaps life wasn't going to suck as bad as she thought.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hey, Ter, check out miss Queen of the Universe," Max jerked her head  
towards a black haired, black eyed, dark -nearly black- cherry red  
lipped girl dressed in a cute black skirt and top set. She walked  
elegently and seductively, confidently, her eyes twinkling with some  
hidden secret. Indeed, it did look as if she assumed she was the Queen  
of all.  
  
'Ter,' or, Terry, as he was better known, looked over his shoulder  
while still shelving his books. His eyes widened slightly at the sight  
Max pointed out. He gave a low whistle, then promptly cried out when  
Max jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.  
  
"Ouch!" He protested, glaring at her meaningfully. "I have to use that  
rib, you know. And its still sore from...well, you know, still sore."  
  
"Sorry, bud," Max told her best friend distractedly. Terry rolled his  
eyes and shook his head, and returned to putting his books away and  
retreaving new ones.  
  
He was rather surprised to find himself absently glancing over his  
shoulder, spying for the black haired 'Queen.' He blinked, and barely  
caught himself from recoiling in surprise when he found him right next  
to him, tapping her code into the lock-pad on her locker with perfectly  
manicured nails- black, of course. Somehow, Terry was intrigued to  
notice, with all that black, she didn't look gothic somehow. No, on  
her, it looked simply...elegent.  
  
In a flash, Terry was reminded of an interesting character he had  
spotted the night before while 'patrolling.' Soon after he had decided  
to stop trailing her -she hadn't done anything, and he was supposed to  
be on the lookout for crime- he had gotten a call from his so called  
'employer' about a breakin a few blocks again. He had caught them and  
returned the nearly stolen goods, but not without a fight. Thus, the  
bruised and still tender ribs. Max, still beside him applying lip  
gloss, and his 'boss' were the only ones aside from Terry himself that  
knew where he, had really been doing last night.  
  
Eyeing the girl beside him once more, he blinked when he found her  
looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She looked away quickly,  
but Terry spotted the light blush on her pale cheeks. He grinned  
slightly, and decided to be 'Mr. Welcome,' for once. Shoving his locker  
closed, he turned to her and smiled friendly-like and stuck out his  
hand, shoving his other in his pocket.  
  
"Hi, I'm Terry, Terry McGinnis," He said in a friendly tone. Cynthia  
looked at him and blinked, as if it were hard to contemplate someone  
greeting her so casually and openly. She snapped out of it quickly,  
however, and recovered with a dazzingly charming smile. She took his  
hand delicately, and Terry mentally noted with surprise that for  
looking like a delicate china doll about to break, she had a good grip.  
*Very* good, he corrected himself with a slight mental wince.  
  
"And I'm Cynthia," The girl said cheerily, deliberately excluding her  
last name, smiling brightly. Terry grinned back as they withdrew their  
hands, and he shoved his now free hand in his pocket. She wrapped both  
arms around her many books, now against her flat stomach.  
  
"As you can probably tell, I'm new here," The girl went on. "Any useful  
information? Like whose a real wiz at math, are there any 'popular'  
crowds? Any people I should avoid?" She cocked her head, her eyes  
bright and curious, almost like a cat's. Now, more like a playful  
dragon, Terry corrected. Something in the back of his mind was ringing  
a light warning bells. Dragons could make good friends, but they were  
also very, very deadly, playful or not.  
  
"Well, be careful around the jocks; they like to play dangerous stunts  
and dares and stuff, and there are a few girls who sometimes let the  
nasty side of them show when they're jealous," Terry discreetly pointed  
out a few examples. Cynthia listed attentively, and Terry could see her  
mentally stowing every piece of information carefully.  
  
Cynthia was about to ask another question, when a familiar arm made its  
way around Terry's waist. He smiled down at his girlfriend, Dana.  
Lately he had been lucky enough to not tick her off as of late, so they  
were enjoying a rare time that she 'wasn't speaking to him,' or 'hated  
him for eternity.'  
  
"Oh, hey, Dana," He greeted her with a smile, and she smiled back. Then  
she turned her eyes coldly onto Cynthia.  
  
"Hello," The newest arrival said 'friendly.' Cynthia returned the cold  
smile, and shook Dana's hand delicately, softly, Terry noticed. Not the  
firm one she had used with him.  
  
"Hey, Cynthia, this is my girlfriend Dana. Dana, this is Cynthia. She's  
new." Terry introduced the black haired girls, and Dana's cold stare  
dissipated slightly when she noted her boyfriend introduced her as his.  
  
"Lovely to meet you, Dana," Cynthia said politely, as a princess would  
greet a foreign who was supposed to be a relative. Her manner was   
friendly, but both Terry and Dana caught the hidden tone of  
dissappointment.  
  
"Likewise," Dana returned the sentiment, and before any furthur  
greetings or words could be spoken, the first bell rang, and everyone  
scrambled to make it to class. Terry, with a wave over his shoulder and  
a cheery farewell, left for science with Dana still at his side.   
  
Cynthia sighed forlonely as she turned back to her still open locker to  
retrieve one last book.  
  
"Hey, don't let Dana get to you," A voice said. Cynthia turned slightly  
to see a somewhat short, dark skinned girl with hair dyed a reddish-pink,  
cut in a short pixie bob.  
  
"Pardon?" Cynthia asked politely as she closed and locked her locker.  
Inside, she winced. Had she been that obvious? The girl smiled.  
  
"Dana may declare her 'hate' for Terry twice a week, but she's crazy  
about him," The girl went on, and they fell into step heading down the  
hallway. "She's aware of how harsh she can be, so when another girl  
shows interest in Terry, even only as a friend, she becomes Miss Mama  
Wolf." Cynthia laughed.  
  
"I know how that is," She smiled. "Pardon me for asking, but may I ask  
your name?"  
  
"Oh, sure, its Maxine, but everyone calls me Max," The dark skinned  
girl introduced herself. "And you're Cynthia, right?" Cynthia nodded.  
  
"Thats right," She bit her lip hesitantly. "Um...do you happen to know  
if... Well, before we moved her, I've been hearing about a so called  
'Dark Knight' in Gotham since I was little. My mother doesn't believe  
in him, and my father is downright postive the guy's no good, but I  
wanted to ask you..."  
  
"Yes?" Max gave the girl a half-cautious, half amused look out of the  
corner of her eye as they neared History class, which both coincidently  
had together.  
  
Cynthia blushed in embarrassment. "Well, I was wondering if you've seen  
him, and what you think."  
  
"Let's just say I have a knack for sniffing out trouble and getting  
myself into the middle of it," Max laughed. "So yeah, I've seen him.  
He's saved this pretty arse of mine more times than I can count." She  
winked at Cynthia, and tapped her own behind, and the girl burst out  
laughing at Max's antics.  
  
On impluse, Cynthia put her arm around Max's shoulders, and gave her  
a one-arm, sideways hug. "I think I'm going to like being your friend,"  
She said happily. Max laughed and returned the hug.  
  
"Same here, girl." She replied, and they entered History class together.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
"Found anything yet?" Terry inquired of the slightly bent, wide-set  
elderly man sitting at the giant computer console against the stone  
wall of the dimly lit, cool temperatured underground cavern.  
  
The man didn't even spare his charge a glance, and Terry rolled his eyes.  
  
"Guess not," He said to himself.  
  
"Why did you want to know, anyway?" The man, Bruce Wayne by name,  
inquired skeptically. Terry ran a hand through his dark hair and released  
a breath, looking almost thoughtful.  
  
"I don't know, boss," He said after a moment. "It was just really  
wierd. *She* was wierd, but not in a kooky sort of way, just...spooky.  
Too mysterious to be completely human. No one can obtain *that* sort  
of...prescence."  
  
"Hmm..." Was all the billionaire said, almost distractedly, as he  
continued searching the database and those of any one else he thought  
would be worth looking into.  
  
For the life of him Terry couldn't figure out what was bugging him about  
the shadowy young woman he had spotted the night before. And the way  
she had discreetly touched that man...and somehow the reactions of the  
man and the woman that had been in his arms was just... And the look  
the shadow girl had given them...  
  
"Shouldn't you be patroling?" Bruce's voice shook the younger man out  
of his reverie.  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure," He shrugged, and headed to change and head out.  
  
Bruce, the former Batman, the original Dark Knight, watched his  
pupil leave, his dark eyes suspicious and wary.   
  
Something was up.  
  
Something....dark.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Life seems pretty quiet tonight," Terry -or rather, the 'Neo Batman'-  
touched the small round disk under the cloth of his head covering, near  
his ear.  
  
"Its nearly one in the morning." Bruce's voice came back through the  
intercom. "Keep looking for another hour, then you can-"  
  
Terry abruptly hushed his 'boss' as his senses pricked.  
  
"What-" Again, Terry cut Bruce off with a sharp hush. His eyes, alert  
and quicky, darted to and froe, searching for what could have- There!  
Quickly, Terry switched from night vision to info-red. There it was,  
slight, and extremely faint. Whoever it was must have had a suit to  
keep their body heat signals 'muffled.' But he -or rather, she, from  
the faint silhouette- was there, nonethless, hugging the shadows made  
by the small survey house on the rooftop that he had made his lookout  
post.  
  
Just when Terry was about to demand that the observer come out where  
he could see her, the figure moved. It slid out of the shadows like  
liquid darkness and grace. Aburptly, Terry's info-red vision snapped  
off, as did his nightvision. Suddenly he was seeing through his own  
eyes, and his own eyes alone.  
  
"Hello, sir Knight," Came a languid, carefully poised voice. Terry  
narrowed his eyes at the slender young woman that stood before him. It  
was her...The same girl from the night before, in the same dress. Her  
eyes glittered like a starless night, looking at him so piercingly it  
was almost as if she could see straight into his soul...  
  
"Thats because in a way, I can." She spoke again, her voice as smooth  
as black silk. Terry recoiled slightly at the statement. How had she-?  
  
She laughed.  
  
For a moment Terry thought he'd died and gone to heaven, for the sound  
that met his ears when she laughed was purely inhuman, and too lovely  
to be from...down there. It sounded like an angel's song.  
  
"An 'Angel's song?'" The young woman repeated his thoughts. "I am  
flattered, sir knight." Terry narrowed his eyes even furthur, and   
clamped down on his thoughts. As far fetched as it sounded, the only  
explanation he could think of was telepathy...  
  
"Very good, my champion," The girl cooed, placing a finger on her chin  
almost as if in thought as she regarded him almost curiously. That  
confirmed it, and, Terry realized suddenly, itexplained the incident with  
the man and woman the night before.  
  
"So you saw that, eh?" She cocked her to one side. Terry suppressed a  
growl. This was getting annoying. Again, the girl laughed, and this time  
Terry kept his thoughts about the sound in check.  
  
"My, you learn fast," The girl told him approvingly. Terry tried to hide  
his confusion, but it was too late, and from the smile on her face, he  
knew she had 'heard' the thought.  
  
"I was referring to your quickness to learn to shield your thoughts from  
me." She told him, almost conversationally. She took a few steps  
forward, her lips twitching in an amused grin as Terry stiffened. The  
smile was almost immediately gone, however, and she simply, and leisurly  
approached the cement wall that boarded the edge of the roof. She sat  
on it, one leg bent and laying on top of it, her other leg dangling.  
Sitting there, with the wind blowing her hair almost lazily, she looked  
quite-  
  
"Aurgh!" He cursed under his breath. What was she? A siren?  
  
"Enough of this," He growled before she could state his opinion on  
those last two thoughts. "Who-"  
  
"Who am I, what is my name, how can I read your thoughts, and why am I  
here," She said. All previous amusement was completely gone from her  
tone and face, making her voice sound like a mournful hymn. She was  
silent for a moment, and Terry carefully shielded whatever stray  
thoughts happened to cross his mind. Apparently he did a good job, for  
some of them weren't all that kind or innocent -hey, he was still a  
teenage boy!- and she didn't make any comments.  
  
"Who am I..." The woman said. Terry shielded his confusion. Her tone  
sounded almost as if she were asking herself rather than repeating his  
unspoken question.  
  
"Lets skip that question, shall we?" She said, almost cheerily. Something  
in the back of Terry's mind clicked, but he didn't quite connect it.  
  
"Fine." He said stonily. "Then how about how you can read minds?"  
  
"That, young hero, I do not know. I suppose I was created with it right  
along with all of my other...talents." Her tone somehow ended that  
trail of questioning, and, thoroughly annoyed, Terry continued after  
stowing that specific piece of info about her saying that bit about being  
'created.'  
  
"What about what you're doing here and what you want?" To Terry's  
surprise and slight shock, she giggled, almost girlishly. Her eyes  
dancing, she sprang up, and stood on the cement wall, her arms casually  
held out to her sides as she traced the line that went along the  
center of the top of the cement blocks.  
  
"I believe, sir knight, that that question can be answered in tune with  
the answer as to what my name is." She looked at him, her lips quirking  
in amusment, and completely without warning, she sprang into the air,  
and admist wind fluttering satin and silken hair, she backflipped up  
and backwards, into the night air and over the side of the wall.  
  
Terry, after his initial cry, sprang into action almost without thinking.  
and did a running leap over the side. He balled his fists, flared his  
arms, and jammed the button for his rocket boosters on his feet, and  
soared downwards after the girl's black -and therefore rather hard to  
spot during the night- quickly falling form.  
  
Faster, faster he flew, until he was close enough to see her amused  
grin on her face. Shoving aside his bubbling annoyance that was  
quickly turning to anger, he scopped her up into his arms, princess-  
style, and came to a screeching halt in midair, and abruptly reversed  
his heading and burst upwards.  
  
"My hero," The girl laughed, kicking one leg up and bending the other  
almost seductively around the arm that was just below her behind.  
She loosely placed her arms around his neck, and leaned forward to  
whisper in his ear, like the whisper of a shadow.  
  
"Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken onteki. Aima  
Kumori, Kumori Shinga." With that, she lightlt kissed him on the  
cheek, and with a twist of her body, she was loose. Terry made a move,  
even through his shock, to catch her again, but suddenly he realized  
that she was...gone.  
  
No, not gone...there was a slight curl of pitch black smoke just before  
him...and out of that smoke twinkled two night-sky eyes that winked  
at him, then vanished, as did the smoke.  
  
  
  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
  
  
Well? How is it so far? PLEASE review and tell me!!!!!! And don't  
forget to check out my other fics!  
  
Oh, and yes, that is Japanese. I got it from a translating site, and  
I had to do it word by word and sometimes they didn't have the right  
word, so if you speak Japanese or are Japanese, I know its really  
rough.  
  
Until next time! Ja ne!  
  
  
-Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	3. Chapter Two

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You say she just...vanished?" Max kept her voice low, just to be on  
the safe side, despite the incredibly high volume of the clamor of the  
school hallways.  
  
"Not 'vanished,'" Terry, at his side, kept his voice equally quiet.  
"From what I could see, it was if she...dissolved as soon as she was  
out of my arms."  
  
"What do you mean 'dissolved?'" Max prodded. Terry frowned as he  
searched for the right words.  
  
"At first it was like she had become...smoke. Black smoke. But when  
Bruce and I replayed the image at slow, it was too...solid. Not whispy  
and loose enough. More like...more like a..."  
  
"A shadow?" Max supplied, almost half jokingly. To her surprise. Terry  
nodded.  
  
"Exactly." He said. "Like a shadow with a mind of its own..." He shook  
his head. "And just before she did that, she whispered something in my  
ear."  
  
"What did she tell you?" Max stopped as she reached her locker, as did  
Terry, whose was right beside hers.  
  
"I don't know. It was some form of old japanese, I think."  
  
"Well, I'm at the top of my class in ancient dialects." Max remined him  
suggestively. "Do you remember it?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so."  
  
"Well?"  
  
Glancing around cautiously, Terry leaned closer and whispered the words  
as carefully as he could.  
  
"She said 'Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken  
onteki. Aima Kumori, Kumori Shinga.'" He stood up straight again, and  
Max frowned.  
  
"Bruce didn't tell you what it meant?" She asked. Terry shook his head.  
  
"No, he said he wanted to do some more research first, and I haven't  
had time to figure it out myself. What about you? Do you know?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, piece of cake," Max closed her locker and leaned  
against it. "It means, 'Here I-'" Max hushed suddenly, and Terry looked  
to his left -Max was on his left- to see why, and saw a familiar form  
appeared beside him.  
  
"Hey, Cynthia!" Terry greeted the raven-haired girl. She smiled at him,  
then looked to Max.  
  
"Hey, Max-chan! Konnichi wa!" Cynthia greeted her warmly. Max returned  
the smile.  
  
"Hiya!" Max replied. "I didn't know you knew Japanese." Terry's ears  
perked, and he caught the swift, meaningful look Max threw him.  
  
"Oh, I not, not really. My mother lived there for about five years,  
though, so I know a bit from her." Cynthia retrieved her books, locked  
her locker, but made no move to leave. "I heard you knew it, so I  
decided to say some, just for the fun of it. Thought it could be  
something we could get into together. I'm really into old languages."  
  
"So whats that 'chan' mean?" Terry inquired of Cynthia. "'Konnichi wa'  
is 'good afternoon, right?'"  
  
"Right,!" Cynthia looked embarrassed about not thinking that Terry  
might not understand it. "Its a Japanese suffix that goes on the end of  
the name of a person you are a) romantically involved with, b) someone  
you are affectionate of, or the most common one, c) someone you are  
friends with."  
  
"Aaaah...so am I a 'chan,' too?" Cynthia giggled girlishly at the  
question. Terry's eyes widened slightly at the sound...  
  
"Of course!" She replied, not noticing the older boy's reaction. "If  
you want to be, that is."  
  
"Sounds good to me," He told her. The bell rang, and the threesome  
dispersed, Max and Cynthia arm in arm and heading for History, chatting  
lightly. Terry narrowed his eyes after them, his gaze fixated on the  
back of Cynthia's head as one particular thought concerning her swirled  
around in his mind and refused to dissipate.  
  
"Get a grip, McGinnis," He grumbled at himself, and turned to head for  
Science. Still, he couldn't help but throw one last glance over his  
shoulder.  
  
It just wasn't possible...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"You're late again, Cynthia," A voice carefully held in check greeted  
the black haired young woman as she stepped into the living room of her  
family's massive mansion. She wrapped a strand of hair around her  
finger delicately, something she had done since she was little when she  
was nervous.  
  
"Max and I just went for lunch, daddy," She said innocently. "She  
wanted to tell me where some good arcades were, and to tell me which  
parts of town I should avoid."  
  
"Max?" A feminine voice inquired. Cynthia winced. Enter evil stepmother  
incarnate. A slight, petite woman in her mid thirties stepped into the  
room, frowning. She went to the man sitting in an arm chair and stood  
beside him.  
  
"Are you seeing some boy without telling us?" She demanded. Cynthia  
suppressed the urge to wince again. Damn her. She always groped for  
every possible opportunity to get her in trouble with her father.  
  
"No!" Cynthia protested. She looked at her father imploringly. "Daddy,  
Max is a girl! Short for Maxine! She's my friend!"  
  
"Making connections already?" Cynthia blushed at the sudden approval  
and pride in her father's voice. But just when she was about to breathe  
a sigh of relief...  
  
"So who is her father? Anyone we can use?" He asked. Cynthia groaned.  
  
"No, daddy," She said. "I don't know who her father is. I don't even  
know her last name. Didn't you hear me? She's my *friend.*"  
  
"You mean you're associating with someone who could be...be...trailor  
trash for all we know?" The stepmother (Cynthia was relishing the act  
of imagining horns and a beard on the woman) snapped.  
  
"You're mother is right, dear." Her father frowned at her. "You can't  
be with just anyone. Get her last name and I will check up on her  
record, and let you know if I say you can continue to see her."  
  
Cynthia gaped, her eyes wide, drawing in air in shallow, quick breaths,  
desperately trying to reign in her temper. No such luck.  
  
"First off...*father,*" She snarled viciously. Her father jumped  
slightly at her tone, and her stepmother jerked, eyes wide. Later  
Cynthia herself would be afraid of how she had sounded. It hadn't been  
her voice...But for now, she was just plain mad.  
  
"First off," She continued. She raised a trembling hand to point at her  
stepmother. "That...that...that *witch* is not my mother, and never  
will be! Anymore that you love me like a father should! Second, don't  
you *dare* to presume to tell me who and who I can and cannot associate   
with just because you suddenly think you own everything there is!"  
  
"Cynthia Diana!" Her father boomed, rising from his seat, a temple in  
his vein pulsing with anger. "You disrespectful-"  
  
"Don't you preach to me about disrespect!" Cynthia clenched her fists.  
"What I do and say now is nothing compared to the shame and  
*disrespect* you've inflicted on my good mother's name and memory by  
marrying that gold-digging slut!"  
  
"Why you little-" The stepmother strode forward and raised her fist  
to strike her stepdaughter. Cynthia, feeling as though she was not  
moving not of her own accord, ducked, grabbed the woman's wrist, and  
twisted viciously. The older woman cried out and fell away, clutching  
her broken wrist. Cynthia's father made a move, but before he could  
take more than a few steps forward, Cynthia had turned and bolted out  
of the room, down the hall, past the butler and out the door. She kept  
running, and didn't stop, and soon she was out of sight in the twilight  
evening, darkness rapidly approaching.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Terry rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking longingly of his nice,  
soft, warm bed in his room, just a little furthur down the hall...  
  
He pushed open the door to his room, shrugged off his jacket, lazily  
kicked off his shoes, and fell face first into the bed, ready to say  
goodbye to reality and hello to dreamland...  
  
No such luck.  
  
Terry pried his eyes open as a familiar, insistent beeping sounded  
from his laptop. He groaned and dragged himself up out of the bed,  
and slouched into his seat at his desk and hit the button that would  
shut off the alert siren and open his e-mail file.  
  
There, at the top, marked 'important' in bold red letters was an e-mail  
from 'Bats_Max_86.' Terry remembered glaring her to pieces -or having  
tried to- when he had found out about Max taking that e-mail address.  
  
Fully awake now with his interest perked, he opened the e-mail, and  
skimed the letter.  
  
"Ter," The e-mail read. "Like I said, I already knew what that mumbo  
jumbo that shadow girl said to you, but I did some research and I  
think we should meet. There's more to this self proclaimed 'Batman's  
greatest enemy' than we think. Here's the dialog and the translation:  
  
'Tadaima sueni, goshujin shozoku kojinteki taikyokuken onteki. Aima  
Kumori, Kumori Shinga.' That means:  
  
'Here I am at last, your own personal grand ultimate enemy. I am  
Shadow, Shadow Singer.'"  
  
Terry narrowed his eyes, finished reading the last two sentences after  
that, then closed the e-mail.  
  
So... The little black siren had a name.  
  
The Shadow Singer.  
  
"What are you up to?" Terry murmured, looking out the window at the  
night sky.  
  
"Shadow...Shadow Singer..."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The girl in the shadows smiled. So... her dashing dark knight had  
figured it out. She hadn't counted on him having a friend fluent in her  
native tongue. She had hoped it would take him longer to figure out her  
little word puzzle, but no matter. It had sent shivers up her spine to  
hear him say her name, even if it wasn't her real name.  
  
Smiling mischieviously, she let her form begin to merge into the  
shadows once more, off to take her next move in this game of chess.  
Only this time, there were no white pieces. Just black...and blacker.  
Question was, who would be the blackest? The champion of the dark? Or  
the sorceress of the shadows?  
  
Smiling her dark, almost innocent smile, she whispered the words that  
set the greatest match of wits and mind games in action.  
  
"Let the games begin."  
  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
  
You like? I'm having lots of fun with this. =) I hope you enjoyed! Let  
me know if you think I'm making Shadow too...obsessive, or what. Is it  
*too* dark? I'm reeeeeally trying to capture the essence of Batman  
Beyond...ugh, its so hard to do! PLEASE reivew and tell me if I'm doing  
it right, PLEASE!!!!!!!  
  
*sigh* Well, until next time! Ja ne!  
  
  
  
-Alexia Goddess  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	4. Chapter Three

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Yup, that's her alright." Terry frowned, his dark eyes narrowed as he  
looked at the photos in his hands. "I'd know those eyes and smile  
anywhere."  
  
"Out of all of these sightings, she never spoke to anyone other than  
to mysteriously repeat their own thoughts." Max was leaning against the  
stone wall of a secluded alley, a spot that the two often met to discus  
things connected to Terry's 'after school job.'  
  
"So our Singer has been seen before," Terry murmured. The pictures he  
was looking at dated back to almost a hundred years ago. Under normal  
circumstances, it would have seemed impossible, but Terry had been  
doing this job too long to say that anything was impossible anymore.  
  
"She's never given her name before, and one of the more common names  
she was called was 'Black Butterfly.' The black part is obvious, and  
the butterfly seemed to come from this photo." Max handed Terry one  
last picture. The black haired villianess was looking over her shoulder  
at the camera and...winking? Yes, she was winking, in an almost 'aren't  
I a naughty girl?' attitude. But right after than curious wink, Terry's  
eyes widened considerably, and he gave a low whistle.  
  
Clearly visible, flaring to a span of what looked to be nearly five  
feet across at the widest points, attached to Shadow's back was a pair  
of black butterfly wings. Squinting and looking closer, Terry could  
just barely make out intricate swirl patterns, like dense smoke, of the  
deepest navy blue on the wings.  
  
"The man that took the picture said she flashed the wings once he had  
the thought that she reminded him of a butterfly; beautiful, but  
elusive." Max told him as Terry studied the photos furthur. "He also  
admitted that another thought had reached his mind; he was terrified of  
butterflies, from some sort of childhood experience."  
  
"So she also likes to scare people with their worst fears..." Terry  
murmured. He made a disgusted face. "Sickening." He spat. "She hides  
all that evil under such childish innocence."  
  
"Maybe she's not all that evil," Max murmured softly, but Terry's  
careful ears heard her nonetheless. He was just about to demand an  
explanation for her comment, when that ever-dreaded cell phone in his  
jacket pocket rang out softly in the night air.  
  
Duty called.  
  
Literally.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)*(~)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The slight girl giggled in delight as she twirled around the room,  
dripping with sparkling gems, priceless jewels, intricate designs carved  
and weaved out of precious metals. Granted, she really had no need for  
any of them, nor any desire to take them; a casual, fleeting, desired  
thought would conjur up something to exceed the value, both money-wise  
and beauty-wise, of anything else on earth, discovered or undiscovered.  
  
No, the Shadow Singer was here for another purpose...  
  
She had slipped through the air vents on a lovely evening breeze, and  
deliberately tripped the alarms by re-condensing right on one of the  
lazer sensors. Intensified vision had its perks.  
  
She was still in the same black gown; form fitting, till mid thigh,  
where it flared out into multiple folds of thick, cascading black satin.  
Heart-shaped neckline, a thin strap going over her shoulders and  
crossing in the back, and three other straps hanging off her thin  
shoulders elegantly. Her long, pitch black hair, curled at the ends like  
tendrils of smoke, shone under the dim lights of the jewelry store.  
  
Rings glittered on every finger...except one... Her left ring finger  
was vacant of any decoration. No, that finger was special... That finger  
was meant for one ornament, one ring, one gift, one object and one  
object alone.  
  
The shadow girl glanced up at the clock mounted at the wall, any moment  
now... A smile curled on her dark red lips, and grinning gleefully like  
a school girl, she turned smoothly and elegantly, her skirts swishing  
and her jewels flashing in a most impressive manner. Hands clasped  
behind her innocently, a sly, flirty expression on her face, the  
villainess came face to face with the one she had chosen as her arch  
nemesis.  
  
Batman...  
  
"Good evening, my knight," She said. Her tone was not sultry or seducing  
as Terry had expected, simply playful, like a little girl playing  
dress-up with her brother, or father, or a best friend. Max's earlier  
statement came back to him...  
  
'...Maybe she's not all that evil...'  
  
Terry quickly shook that thought away.  
  
"As pretty as those gems are, you don't need them," He told her, and  
blinked. He had sounded flirty... Quickly, but discreetly, he added,  
"Plus they don't even belong to you, so wearing them would ruin their  
value and beauty. I suggest you put them right back where you got them,  
and come with me."  
  
"Certainly," She smiled impishly. Terry narrowed his red-slited eyes.  
He knew that sort of tone, and he knew what was coming next...  
  
"If you can catch me!" She crowed, laughing joyously. Terry quickly  
clamped down on his thoughts of that particularily lovely sound, and  
leaped forward as the black gown clad girl whirled and dashed away,  
quick as the shadows she came from. The chase was easy, and he cornered  
her under a sunroof. He should have known then...  
  
"My, my, you're better than I thought," She giggled. "Since I'm sure  
you hate boring chases as much as I do, shall I escalate things a bit?  
I know you can fly -and most expertly, too, might I add- so do you mind  
if I use these?" She gave him that 'aren't I a naughty girl?' wink,  
and with a slight billowing of shadow-like smoke just behind her,  
forming in the center of her back and branching out on either side,  
a set of large, elegent butterfly wings formed and flapped once. In the  
better light, the dark navy blue patterns now looked purple...no, now  
they switched back to blue...nearly black forest green...navy again...  
now purple! It seemed to like purple the best...whatever it was that  
kept it changing color.  
  
Without furthur banter, the girl flapped her wings once, and lifted  
off, soaring upwards. Terry barely caught a glimpse of something like a  
miniature, spiraling black star form in her hand, glowing pale purple  
and silver, before a light exploded overhead and glass rained down on  
him. When he looked up again, she was gone. Terry had half a mind to  
just drop it, but then he remembered she still had the jewels, and then  
he realized he *wanted* to chase her...  
  
With a grumble/sigh, Terry flared his arms out to his sides, snapping  
his red gliders open, and ignited his rocket boosters, and soared  
upwards into the night sky.  
  
Terry hovered above the jewelry store for a moment, looking around,  
eyes alert, body tensed, looking for any sign to indicate where she  
had gone.  
  
'Where *is* she?' He thought frustratedly.  
  
'Over here, my knight....' A whispy, tinkling voice like mystic bells,  
something from a dream, whispered oh-so-gently in his mind. He felt a  
tug to his right, north. He narrowed his eyes. Too easy...  
  
With a snap of his gliders, he turned sharply to his left, south, and  
swung around a large billboard to come face to face with the giggling  
shadow girl with large black and purpel butterfly wings.  
  
"Wonderful!" She clapped her hands gleefully, like a schoolgirl, and  
then abruptly whirled in midair, flapped her wings-  
  
Before he got a change to think out his plan, Terry soared forward,  
palms outstretched. Twitching his thumb in a specific movement, he  
fired the cooling liquid out of his palms, Spiderman, style. His aim  
was bullseye, and before Shadow could get out of the way, the streams  
hit each wing dead center. Immediately the butterfly-like appendages  
froze, becoming encased in an icy case. The bearer of the wings shrieked  
as they cracked, crumbled, and fell away. Before she had a chance to  
form new ones, she was plummeting to the ground, the expression rapidly  
turning from startled, to delighted as she laughed.  
  
Terry watched, expecting her to whisp away at any moment, or form new  
wings, but neither happened. Cursing all wiley females, Terry cut the  
power to his rocket boosters, clamped his ankles together, spread his  
arms, clenched his fists, aimed his body downwards, and let gravity  
take him soaring downwwards.  
  
'I'm goint to regret this,' were his last thoughts just before he  
clutched the slight young woman in his arms, reignited his rockets, and  
flew upwards to hover just above the buildings. The girl in his arms  
kicked up one leg, wrapped her arms round his neck, and giggled, grinning  
in delight.  
  
"Oh, that was soooo much fun!" She laughed. Terry found himself grinning  
slightly at the sound, and slapped himself mentally.  
  
"Aw, don't do that." He looked down to find Shadow Singer pouting. She  
unwound on warm from around his neck to stroke his cheek, the cheek  
that would have been stining had he slapped himself for real.  
  
"You're something else," Terry resisted the urge to kick himself again.  
Where had *that* come from? "What exactly do you want here?" He forced  
his traditional Batman growl into his voice as he narrowed his eyes at  
her. With that impish grin, innocently glittering eyes, he found it was  
like yelling at a child. Something he didn't like doing...  
  
"Aw, you don't like yelling at me?" She pouted cutely. "Then why are  
you?"  
  
Terry scowled. "Would you quit that mind reading thing? Its getting  
on my nerves."  
  
The girl burst out into tinkling laughter. Chuckling as she regained her  
breath, she wrapped both arms around him again, and pulled herself up  
against him and whispered...  
  
"Thats the idea."  
  
Next thing Terry knew, he had his arms wrapped around a bundle of  
quicking fading smoke, rather than a dark, childish villianess.  
  
Terry cursed and spat venemously as the whispy shadow substance dissipated,  
realizing he hadn't even retrieved the jewels. Just as that realization  
came to him, part of the smokey shadow drifted towards him, and abruptly  
materliazed to form a cloth bag that dropped heavily into his hands.  
Peeking inside, he narrowed his eyes at the tangled mass of jewels.  
When he looked up, there wasn't the slightest whisp of shadow left.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
  
Short, I know, and rather pointless, but don't worry; the plot will  
show itself, soon, don't worry. In response to Nezera's review; you're  
right! I am having fun! *grins*  
  
Until next time, minna-chans! Ja ne!  
  
  
-Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	5. Chapter Four

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"She had *wings?" Max narrowed her eyes in disbelief as she leaned  
forward slightly over the table. Terry nodded, his eyes dark, with  
cirlces under them; he had gotten barely two hours sleep last night.  
Although he was used to such little snooze time, sometimes none at all,  
it was the fact that he was unable to shake the uneasy feeling of  
impending...something. That was what was really zapping him.  
  
The two were unable to discuss the previous evening's events any further,  
however, because just then a familiar, black haired girl walked up with  
a big grin on her face.  
  
"Konbanha!" She chirped cheerfully.  
  
"Youkoso!" Max replied with a smile as Cynthia slid into the booth  
beside Max.  
  
"Translation, please?" Terry raised an eyebrow as the girls giggled.  
  
"Konbanha = Good evening," Cynthia supplied.  
  
"And Youkosu is basically a friendly, enthusiastic welcome," Max added.  
Before anyone could say anything else, a waiter came to take their  
order, but Cynthia waved him away with an apology an the explanation to  
both the waiter and Terry and Max that she had already eaten.  
  
"So, how's life?" Terry asked. A dark shadow passed over Cynthia's eyes,  
but it was quickly gone.  
  
"Good!" She chirped. "Daddy booked a vacation for my stepmom and me to  
go to Hawaii for a few weeks, since life around the manor has been  
getting pretty stressfull, with Daddy being the new mayor and all."  
  
"The new mayor?" Terry's eyes widened, and Max looked smug.   
  
"Oh, didn't you know Ter?" She said 'innocently.' "Cynthia's last name  
is McCain. Daughter of Richard and the late Makura McCain."  
  
"Mama died when I was five, and Daddy remarried last year," Cynthia  
explained. "To Dorla Groove." She spat the name as if it were a  
poisoned curse.  
  
"They don't get along," Max leaned forward, and put up her right hand  
to Cynthia on her left, putting her hand to the corner of her mouth,  
palm facing Cynthia as she mock whispered the words.  
  
"Understatement," Cynthia snorted. She blew a strand of her ebony black  
hair, the ends curled artfully, out of her face. Her hair sparkled with  
the movement, revealing the prescence of purple, luminescent hair  
glitter.  
  
"Hey, where'd you get the hair glitter?" Max inquired, noticing the  
sparkle as well. Cynthia blinked, as if she had been pulled from deep  
thought.   
  
"Oh!" She said, and apologized for her lack of mental prescence. "I got  
it at the Neo Body Shop. They have a huge selection! First they have  
glitter, sparkle, pearlescent, luminescent -what I have- then they have  
soooo many different colors, and-"  
  
"Hiya, cutie," A voice that Terry knew all to well suddenly interruopted  
Cynthia's rant. Terry's head whirled to see one of the most hidiously  
grinning faces anyone could hope -or dread- to see in person.  
  
The Joker.  
  
Terry suppressed a groan as he realized that while he had been semi-  
out of it, at least twenty Jokerz had poured into the diner, and were  
now having a blast vandalizing the customers and flirting with the  
better looking guys and girls. And apparently Cynthia had caught the  
eye of the leader of the whole kit and kaboodle.  
  
Cynthia looked him up and down, and both Max's and Terry's eyes widened  
as she got a sinister, mischieviously cat like expression on her face,  
a sly smile turning her lips into a pert little smirk while her eyes  
glittered.  
  
She walked up to the Joker until there was barely room for air to pass  
between them. She tilted her body up on the balls of her feet to meet  
the purple suited, white faced, big grinned villain in the eye.  
  
"Hi..." It was only one word, but her tone was so low and seductive half  
the men in the room turned to jelly. Terry reacted as well, but rather  
differently...  
  
  
*FLASH!*  
  
  
"Certainly," She smiled impishly. Terry narrowed his red-slited eyes.  
He knew that sort of tone, and he knew what was coming next...  
  
"If you can catch me!"  
  
  
*FLASH*  
  
  
"Well, hi right back at you, sweetums," The Joker, as imposing as ever,  
took the initiative and wrapped his arms firmly and possessively around  
Cynthia's waist, one just above her backside in the small of her back,  
the other bending at the elbow to go up along her backbone, his hand  
spread out between her shoulderblades to push her against him.  
  
Terry narrowed his eyes. For some reason he was having a hard time not  
leaping up and tearing out the purple clad villain's throat right then  
and there.  
  
He never got the chance however, for before anyone could move a muscle,  
Cynthia reached up, grabbed the Joker's dark green, nearly black hair  
and brought his face down to smash his lips onto hers forcefully.  
  
The other Jokerz cheered, Terry saw red, and Max moved to stand, a   
ceramic plate in hand, most likely ready and waiting to smash over  
both the Joker's *and* Cynthia's head.  
  
Before either moved, however, the Joker suddenly convulsed, froze, his  
arms going rigid, then limp as he fell away from Cynthia and collapsed  
the the floor, writhering in pain.  
  
A dagger hilt protruded from his guts, blood pooling around him as his  
eyes went wide, then blank.  
  
Cynthia calmly walked back to the table, took out a wad of napkins from  
the napkin dispenser, and wiped the blood from her hand as if it were  
ketchep while the Jokers hastily gathered up their fallen leader and  
quickly dissappeared.  
  
Cynthia moved, her eyes downcast and her face expressionless, to leave,  
and Terry finally rose to his feet and grabbed her wrist, whirling her  
around to face him.  
  
"What the hell do you think you just did? And where are you going?"  
  
*Let go of me...*  
  
Terry recoiled sharply, eyes wide.  
  
"What the..." Before he could gather his wits, Cynthia whirled, hair  
glitter shimmering, and fled the diner.  
  
That voice...  
  
It had been in his head...  
  
It had definately been Cynthia's, that was for sure.  
  
But it had been telepathic...  
  
What was going on?  
  
  
  
  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
  
  
  
Sorry this took so long to get out! I was super sick, bed ridden, almost  
in the hospital ill. I was barely fit to walk, let alone write, so thats  
my explanation! Anyhoo, here it is! Better late than never, right? It's  
a little longer than usual, I hope... If not then at least its a little  
more action packed... I hope...  
  
*sigh* Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review!  
  
  
-Alexia Goddess  
  
  
P.S. If you like the alluring, mysterious aura of my fic, then go to   
the page of the author Azhure and read her story 'The Emerald.' Its  
completely original, and completely amazing. Ja! -Alexia 


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
  
  
  
  
Cynthia ran.  
  
What had she done?  
  
Tears coursed down her face, mirroring the rain that fell all around her.  
  
What had she *done?*  
  
Cynthia heard Terry call after her, chasing her, but she didn't care,  
she didn't stop, she didn't pause. She just ran.  
  
She had just kissed, then mortally stabbed the Joker! What had come  
over her? She was no actress; she was a wimp when it came to that sort  
of thing! So what had possessed her to do what she had? It was like  
something had been...guiding her.  
  
Cynthia clapped down on her ears as she ran on. It was too confusing!  
And the look in Terry's eyes when he had stopped her from leaving...  
And then the shock, the way he recoiled from her when she told him to  
let her go...  
  
  
She let loose a sob as she stumbled over a fallen trashcan while running  
down a deserted alley. She collapsed in the corner of the dead end,  
wrapping her arms around her self as her drenched hair fell around her  
face in sopping wet strands.  
  
"Mother..." She whispered through her sobbing. Makura McCain had been  
everything to Cynthia...she'd always known what to do. She would have  
known what to do now...  
  
"Mother..." The whisper came again. And again...Cynthia found herself  
latching onto that one word, clinging to it as she did so many times  
when things were going horribly wrong. So latched onto that one word  
was she that she didn't notice when the fog around her began to take  
on a bluish purple ting and swirl around her... Neither did she  
notice as huge, sparkling wings fizzed into existence on her back, and  
her hair began growing longer...  
  
"Mother..."  
  
  
  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
  
  
  
Something was going to happen; Terry could feel it. And this particular  
gut feeling was rarely wrong. He had chased Cynthia out of habit and  
worry for a friend, but now, as he lost sight of her as she rounded  
a corner and ran down an alley, he came to a halt. There was hardly  
anyone out; it had begun to rain in in heavy torrents.  
  
Terry had suspected since his first meeting Cynthia, but now he was  
sure, as he ducked into a shop and hid in the bathroom as he changed  
into The Suit which he'd had in his backpack.  
  
Cynthia was the Shadow Singer.  
  
Her wileness, her suave, casual stabbing of the Joker and playful  
seduction of him, nevermind Cynthia's telepathic command for him to  
release her had all proven it.  
  
Had Max known? No, he didn't think so.  
  
Terry, now Batman, slipped out the backdoor of the shop, which exited  
near the dead end of the alley he had seen Cynthia disappear into. A  
sound like muffled sniffing and sobbing reached his ears, and he peeked  
over a stack of crates to his right, and gasped. There Cynthia sat,  
crouhed, arms wrapped around herself as she faced the corner. The  
same beautiful, large black butterfly wings that had allowed Shadow  
to escape him the day before now emerged from Cynthia's back. Even as  
Terry watched, her hair grew longer, darker, curling at the ends as  
it pooled around her.  
  
"Mother..." He heard her choke. The shadows of the alley seemed to  
detach themselves from their places, running like black ink to Cynthia,  
surrounding her, just as the purple/bluish mist whirled around the  
girl. As it gathered, Terry watched, eyes narrowed. The shadows and  
mist that surrounded Cynthia suddenly flared up, six feet up, completely  
obscuring Cynthia from view.  
  
When it vanished, dissipating with a 'whoosh,' Terry wasn't the least  
bit surprised to see the Shadow Singer standing there. And it was her.  
Not Cynthia. At least, she was as 'not Cynthia' as she could be when  
she and Cynthia shared the same body...  
  
"You can come out, my Knight," She said softly, in the same tone as  
when they had first met. Terry, on full alert, stepped into view,  
switching off his camoflauge as he did so.  
  
"You followed her," It was a statement, not a question. Terry nodded.  
"You want to know what I am." Again, a statement, and again Terry  
nodded.  
  
"When we first met, I mentioned being created, did I not?" In her eyes,  
as her wings twitched, Terry saw a look that almost frightened him.  
"I was created over two hundred years ago by the greatest sorceress  
ever. She was bored with her power. She created me to find for her an  
adversary worthy of her. But she died before I fulfilled my mission.  
But rather than dying, I found a woman willing to let me inhabit her  
body, take on her appearence."  
  
"Makura McCain." Terry stated. Shadow nodded. Suddenly Terry understood.  
Shadow had taken on her mistress's mission to find the perfect adversary...  
  
"Makura died, so you took Cynthia."  
  
Again, Shadow nodded. Terry growled.  
  
"But now she has blood on her hands. I can no longer inhabit her..."  
Shadow's whispered statement surprised Terry slightly.  
  
"But I have brought her nothing but pain, as I did her mother..." Shadow  
looked him in the eye. "I must ask you a favor, my knight." Terry only  
narrowed his eyes.  
  
"This favor I ask is forbidden of me to ask, but I have no choice. I  
tried carrying out my creator's wishes...but I have no desire to be a  
great villainess. She did, but I don't." Terry blinked as a single  
tear rolled down her cheek. This was new... Maybe Max had been right...  
  
That thought was quickly obliterated, however, when out of nowhere  
Shadow burst forward, grasping him about the neck and soaring upwards.  
Only Terry's grip on Shadow's shoulders and the bat suit's advancedness  
kept him from being strangled.  
  
"You little-" Terry choked. Shadow cut him off.  
  
"I'm sorry, but I have to do this, otherwise I know you'll never do  
what I ask," She said tearfully. She looked him the eye, as she kept  
then hovering above the city.  
  
"Kill me."  
  
  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
  
  
  
Okay, the reason it took me so long to get this out was I suddenly  
realized I had NO plot. It was just a girl who had the spirit of a  
shadow creature inside her that was looking for an arch adversary   
apparently for her own amusement. But I didn't have a why, or how, or  
anything. So I decided to just end it, which I will do probably in the  
next chapter. I may come back and rewrite it someday once I have an  
actual plot, but until then, my energies will be put towards my other  
fics, which DO have plots.  
  
So until later, minna-chans! Ja ne!  
  
  
Smile More, Dream Always,  
Alexia Goddess  
  
  
P.S. SOOOOOOOOO sorry it took so long to post more!!!!!! I didn't realize  
so many people liked it! I'm sorry that this story won't live up to  
your expectations. *tears* Oh, well. Such is life. Ja! -Alexia  
  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	7. Chapter Six

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
chapter Six  
Mingling Blood  
  
  
  
  
"Kill me!" Shadow screamed again, and simultaniously released the Dark  
Knight and kneed him in the midriff. Terry doubled over in mid air,  
clutching his stomach. He went hurtling down to the ground, but Shadow  
flew down, flaring her wings and coming back up under him, slamming  
a fist into his back so hard he went soaring back upwards. This time he  
managed to get his feet under him, jam a button inside his wrist, and  
flare his gliders. He growled ferally and shot down to a rooftop,  
Shadow hot on his heels.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Terry growled as he ducked away from one of  
Shadow's swings. She anticipated this move, however, and he only  
succeeded in ramming straight into her other fist. Super strength  
apparently accompanied her arsenal of wings and telepathy, as once  
again Terry slammed down into the concrete.  
  
"I told you," Shadow said. "I have nothing to live for." Her voice was  
cold and careless, even more so than it had been on that rooftop only  
days ago, when Terry had first met her. Shadow whirled in a roundabout  
kick. Terry leapt to his feet and caught her foot, gave it a twist,  
and sent her spiraling in midair to land heavily a few feet away.  
  
"That's not true!" He snapped at her as she picked herself up, wiping  
a trickle of blood off her lip.  
  
"Oh?" Shadow raised an elegant eyebrow. "How so, my darling knight?  
You see a reason worth my continuing to live? How? I was created to  
nurture evil, to serve someone who was the beloved of a man who  
wanted to destroy the world. When that beloved one destroyed her, her  
hate and evilness was embedded in me. How? How can I live and not be  
the very source of pain and suffering for this city?"  
  
"For one thing," Terry said, standing up straight and seeming to glare  
at her. "If you really were all that, you wouldn't feel so bad about it. And second, you give yourself too much credit. Even if you did   
become the ultimate villainess, I'd be there to stop you at every turn,  
and you know it. Isn't that why you picked me and this city?"  
  
Shadow's laughter rang out clear and sweet. She walked towards him, a  
sparkle in her eye.  
  
"You think I deserve to live, my knight?" She said, her voice low and  
playful as she neared, her hands impishly clasped behind her back.  
  
"Everyone deserves to live." Terry stated. Well, he amended mentally.  
Almost everyone.  
  
"So you think I'm special, even though I was created for evil?" She  
giggled.  
  
Damn that telepathy, Terry scowled. Shadow laughed.  
  
She was just in front of him now, close enough so that there was barely  
room for wind to pass between them, and it was rather windy atop one of  
the tallest skyscrapers in Gotham. Cars and the sounds of the night  
city roared below, but up above, things were calm and almost silent.  
  
The wind swirled around tbem, bringing Shadow's long hair around her to  
brush against Terry's arm. Her black eyes were bright, and the cloudy  
skies were just barely thin enough that a sliver of moonlight was  
reflected in them, making her look catlike and devious. The impish  
'arent' I a naughty girl?' smile she was giving him was -for some  
unfathomable reason- making his heart do flip flops...  
  
"Please, my knight," Terry could almost hear Cynthia's innocence in   
Shadow's tone. "Please," She begged, placing a hand in the center of  
the bright red bat insignia on his chest. "Please, end the pain I will  
sow before it begins. Please...just kill me..." She raised her other  
hand, palm up. Smoky shadowy fog gathered in it, elgonating and then  
solidifying into the shape of a curved, black handled, garnget and  
dark amathyst studded dagger. She offered it to him, holding the hilt  
to him.  
  
Terry looked at the dagger, put his hand over hers on the hilt, and   
applied pressure. Shadow gasp when his grip began to become painful,  
and she was forced to drop the dagger else her hand be crushed. Even  
after she dropped it, Terry kept his hand on hers. He didn't want her  
going after the dagger before he got a chance to kick it away. At  
least, that was what he told himself.  
  
"Why do you want to die?" He asked her suddenly. That gut feeling was  
back...  
  
Shadow blinked and stepped away and removed her hand from his chest,  
taking her other hand from his, a look of surprise on her face. It was  
an usual expression for her, and Terry got the feeling she didn't wear  
it often.  
  
"Wh-what?" She asked, then frowned. "I told you. I have no reason for  
living. Although I was created for it and by it, I don't like causing  
pain to those who don't deserve it. And if I stay alive that's what  
I'll end up doing."  
  
"There's something you're not telling me." Terry's eyes narrowed.  
"There's another reason you're so eager to end your life right now."  
  
Shadow took another step back. The pleading, hopeful look on her face  
dissipated into the sly, cocky smirk of a naughty kitten.  
  
"You are perceptive, my knight," She purred, as they began circling  
each other.  
  
"Tell me, Shadow," Terry growled.  
  
"Do you really want to know?" Shadow raised an eyebrow. Terry remained  
silent, only narrowing his eyes in response. Though he was having a  
hard time concealing his raging curiosity... Shadow giggled girlishly.  
  
"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," She laughed. "But very well," She   
said. "But I guarantee you won't like it..." She fixed his gaze with  
his, and suddenly found that as she made her way closer, he wasn't able  
to take a step back...   
  
Damn hypnosis, and double damn that telepathy, Terry growled to himself.  
  
Shadow raised her hand, and the dagger, a few yards away, flew to her  
grasp at her silent command. Playful impishness glittering out of her  
crescentmoon reflecting eyes, she walked closer and closer to the one  
she had proclaimed her ultimate adversary, and whom moments ago she  
had begged to end her life.  
  
She was right in front of him now, and Terry was just as frozen then as  
he had been a few moments before. She gripped his right arm and raised  
it so that the inside of his forearm was facing up. She rasied herself  
up on her tip toes.  
  
"I'm sorry," She whispered in his ear, and when lowering herself down  
off her tiptoes, kissed his cheek before slicing the dagger deep into  
his forearm, once, twice, three, four, five times, crisscrossing to  
make a star of of lines all at different angles, but all crossing each  
other at the same point.  
  
Terry was unable to cry out or hiss or even wince, but his face would  
have gone from an expression of suppressed pain to that of surprise  
when Shadow drew the blade across the inside of her own left forearm,  
making the same five point star. She dropped the dagger, biting her  
lip and whimpering as the blood dripped and ran down to her wrist and  
splattered to the rooftop.  
  
Shadow moved her left arm towards' Terry's still frozen right, when a  
voice cried out...  
  
"No! Shadow, don't! You can't! Mother wouldn't have wanted this!"  
  
"This is what I was created or, Cynthia." Shadow said, responding to  
the voice. "I was created to cause pain...to the the one who caused  
you mother pain."  
  
Shadow clasped her hand around Terry's right elbow, slamming the twin  
slice stars together. Suddenly the neo Batman was free of the hypnosis,  
and a cry of rage and pain was released from his throat as Shadow fell  
into him, sobbing.  
  
"No! Terry!" That same voice that tried to stop Shadow screamed.  
Faintly Terry recognized it as Cynthia's...  
  
"Batman!" Max...  
  
"McGinnis!" Bruce...  
  
Memories that weren't his own flashed through his mind, and he saw  
a familiar slender redhead, young and beautiful though she was well  
over a hundred, her father's voice coming from her throat.  
  
Talia?  
  
He remembered fleeing with Bruce as the mansion began to crumble into  
flames. But as he watched the images that sifted through his mind, he  
saw a shadow of a girl, horror on her face, race towards a back entrance.  
  
Cynthia?  
  
Yes, it was Cynthia! But she was red haired, and had the brightest  
green eyes...but it was still Cynthia.   
  
Terry, as he watched these 'imported' memories like one would a movie,  
he saw her cough through the smoke, shoving aside burning rubble to  
reach the woman who was near death. The woman's body holding the mind   
of a crazed man...  
  
"Mother!" Cynthia cried, pulling the woman's burnt body into her arms.  
  
"Cynthia..." Rache used Talia's voice to address Talia's daughter from  
Talia's body. Cynthia didn't know, Terry realized. She didn't know that  
her mother had died years ago, when she had died to give her body to  
her father.  
  
"Mama, don't go!" Cynthia sobbed. Talia's hand reached up and touched  
Cynthia's forehead. Cynthia didn't notice the slight shadowy substance  
that became visible around Talia's hand and then sunk into Cynthia's  
skin. Neither did she notice that as it sunk in, her hair turned  
black and her eyes the darknest of blues.  
  
Then the hand fell away, and Rache, in Talia's body, was dead.  
  
As Terry's mind was stuck in the reverie of a limbo, the outside world  
seemingly frozen in time, he suddenly knew everything, everything  
crashed into place, plaything themselves out in sequence.  
  
A sorceress fell in love with Rache, hundreds of years ago.  
  
Rache loved her at first, and they had a child, Talia.  
  
Rache betrayed the sorceress.  
  
The sorceress created Shadow to not only take revenge on Rache, but to  
watch over her daughter and find the sorceress an enemy to play with.  
  
Sorceress died before Shadow could do any of those things.  
  
Shadow felt guitly at not being able to grant her creator's wishes, so  
took Talia's body to inhabit in a dormant state, all the while keeping  
a mental ear out for someone worthy of the daughter of her creator.  
  
Talia fell in love with the first Batman.  
  
First Batman denied her.  
  
Talia wouldn't allow Shadow to reap reveng on Batman, since Talia still  
loved him.  
  
Talia fell in love with Mr. McCain.  
  
Talia and Mr. McCain had Cynthia.  
  
Mr. McCain had an affair with Dorla groove and divorced Talia.  
  
Talia's father's remaining thoughts found Talia via Shadow's telepathy,  
and Talia gave her body to Rache to inhabit, dying in the process.  
  
Shadow hid herself from Rache, had a plan to get Talia back.  
  
Cynthia never knew about Rache.  
  
Bruce and Terry ended up killing Rache-within-Talia before Shadow   
could bring back her creator's daughter.  
  
Shadow transfered herself from Talia's body to Cynthia.  
  
Cynthia had been in denial...  
  
Shadow kept looking for the perfect adversary, pleased when she  
discovered it was the one responsible for her not being able to rescue  
her mistress...  
  
Terry, had he not been in this mental limbo, would have growled  
ferally.  
  
Shadow was mixing their blood so she could possess him! But why?  
  
*Can we say 'dumb question?'* Terry growled at himself. *So she can  
make your life miserable, that's why! The perfect adversary is always  
yourself, dummy, because you can't fight something from inside  
yourself! That's a battle that would go on forever! WILL go on forever  
if this doesn't get stopped!*  
  
Even as he thought this, he could feel Shadow's black blood mingle  
with his own in his own veins...time was running out... He could feel  
his mind seeping back into his body, but would he be fully back in  
control of his own limbs in time?  
  
Just as her blood was in his, his was also in hers, and he could feel  
and sense that she knew that he was pushing himself to regain control  
of his body. Just as he began concentrating, so did she, and the  
race was on...  
  
The clock was ticking.  
  
  
To Be Continued....  
  
  
  
Okay, this WHOLE story is offically dedicated to Smack54. *hugs Smack*  
THANK YOU!!!!!!!! I got the inspiration for an actual PLOT for this  
story from Smack's VERY encouraging, boost-giving review. THANK YOU! Go  
thank him too! He's the reason that there will be at least two more  
chapters to this, and probably a sequel! Oh, man, my little brain gears  
are turning now... *eyes sparkle* OH, the possibilities for this little  
brain storm chapter of mine...ooooooooh..... *eyes glitter more*  
  
*snaps out of it* Anyhoo, if any of you don't know who Talia is, or is  
confused on that front (I did my best to give as much background info  
as nessecary. Did I do a good job?) then review or e-mail me and I'll  
give you a more detailed explanation, okay? Okay.  
  
Now, everyone, I want everyone to read *very* *carefully* You see that  
lil blue bar down below???? USE IT!!!!!!!!  
  
*halo* Thanks for reading! You're support was sooooo great!!!!!!! *hugs  
all* Thankies! Ja!  
  
  
Smile More, Dream Always,  
Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	8. Chapter Seven Finale

~Shadow~Singer~  
  
  
  
  
By Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Part of Shadow was being torn into shreds of agony. Why? She didn't  
know. She blamed it on that she had looked so long for an adversary,  
and this would surely kill him...  
  
No! she told herself. You said so yourself, and you heard him think  
it; your greatest enemy is always yourself. By possessing him, we  
truly will be ultimate adversaries!  
  
But this was killing him...  
  
What did she care? The other part of Shadow was estatic; she was  
fulfilling her Creator's dream! To hurt all those that had ever hurt  
her... Rache, the one whom had betrayed Shadow's Mistress, the  
Sorceress, in the first place was long dead. But this boy...this  
warrior whom unwillingly held her in his arms as she fought to join  
their blood, he had destroyed the any chance Shadow had of resurecting  
the Sorceress's beloved daughter, Shadow's only friend...  
  
He would pay.  
  
"Shadow!" Cynthia, Talia's daughter in every way, called to her in  
her mind. They shared a body, Cynthia and Shadow, and could always  
hear each other, no matter who was currently in control of that body.  
  
"Shadow, please!" Cynthia pleaded. "He didn't know! He only does what  
he does to protect those he loves!"  
  
"He killed what was left of your mother, Cynthia," Shadow said harshly  
to the girl. "And in affect killed your mother. Don't you want  
revenge?"  
  
"I...I..." Cynthia had no answer. She did want revenge, but she wanted  
Terry to live more than she wanted revenge. Or at least she had thought  
she did...  
  
"Shadow, stop!" Cynthia suddenly commanded. For a split moment, Shadow,  
and all her evil workings within Batman's body froze.  
  
"If you want revenge you should get it from my fa...Mr. McCain. HE'S  
the one who drove my mother away. If he hadn'ted, Grandfather Rache  
would never have been able to force mama into letting him possess her  
body! Never! It's him we want, him and that Darla!"  
  
Shadow began thinking. Was Cynthia right?  
  
"Of course I'm right!" Cynthia stated, her voice still pleading.  
Shadow's attention snapped back to Terry; her control over him was  
beginning to wane... If she was going to possess him, she had to do it  
now. Enough of her blood was in his veins to do it.  
  
'Don't...don't even th-think about it...' Shadow's eyes widened as she  
heard Batman's -or Terry, as Cynthia knew him- voice in her mind. Of  
course...with her blood eternally in his veins, he had acquired her  
ability of telepathy...  
  
"I have no choice, now, Cynthia," Shadow told her counterpart.  
Cynthia's mind cried out.  
  
'If she joins with Batman," Cynthia thought frantically. "She'll be  
unstoppable...and no one will be able to stop her...the city will be  
destroyed... The only person I want to suffer for all eternity is  
that lowdown, no good bastard who calls himself my father!"  
  
"Is that all you want?" Shadow snapped to the girl whose body she was  
in control of. Cynthia looked at Shadow with her mind's eye.  
  
"It's all I want for now," Cynthia said softly. Shadow, in the physical  
world, looked up at the face of the struggling Dark Knight. She knew  
right then that he'd fight her to the end of time. With her blood in  
his body, tying them together, giving him one of her gifts, he would  
be an even greater adversary. An even greater opponant in the eternal  
chess game that was good and evil. Granted, it would have been even  
more intense had they shared the same body, but yet it would loose some  
of it's traditional appeal...  
  
"Very well," Shadow whispered out loud. Now that she was focusing more  
on the real realm, she now faintly noted two other presences on the  
rooftop. An old man...but by no means weak or helpless. A ruby haired  
young woman...  
  
"Let...me...go..." Batman hissed vehemently. Shadow could tell he  
didn't realize he still had his arms around Shadow in what could have  
appeared to be a lover's embrace, had it not been so tense and hostile.  
It wasn't apparent if he had 'heard' the exchange between Cynthia and  
Shadow. Either way, it didn't matter, she knew.  
  
"As you wish, my knight," Shadow whispered, closed her eyes, and began  
to relinquish her hold on the mind of the one known as Batman... But  
not before claiming a little compensation...  
  
Just before Terry was completely free, he felt Shadow- *in his arms???*  
He felt her rise on on the balls of her feet and...oh, good lord...kiss  
him full on the mouth.  
  
Something snapped, and it only took Terry a moment to realize that  
what had snapped was Shadow's control over him... Just as quickly he  
realized he now had complete control over his limbs and mind and  
body once more...  
  
So why was he not violently pulling away, tying cable cords around her,  
and shipping her off to that island where they kept loony villains?  
  
Terry's mind drifted...he thought of everything and nothing, yet all  
those thoughts that filtered in and out of his mind centered around one  
thing; the lithe villainess in his arms, her arms around his neck, her  
hair tumbling around them both, and her mouth...  
  
God, those little lips of hers...  
  
Damnit, why couldn't he pull away??? She had no control over him  
anymore... Did she?  
  
Uh-oh...  
  
Terry would have heard her giggle in his mind, had both their minds not  
been in such turmoil. Terry found himself kissing her back, hard,  
grabbing fistfulls of her hair and twining his hands around the fine  
strands. She clung to him like he was her last lifeline to life.  
  
Only the need for air finally tore then apart, Terry's hand still  
engangled in Shadow's hair at the base of her skull, at the back of  
her neck, his other secure around her slip of a waist.  
  
"Why did you let me go?" Terry's voice was low and hoarse. Shadow tried  
to force an innocent, impish grin, but only succeeded in a small,  
gentle smile.  
  
"What is a villainess without her always interfering knight?" She said  
softly. "Plus, Cynthia was correct. You are not the one responsible for  
my Mistress's daughter's death. Neither is your mentor; he was only  
doing what HE was created to do. I cannot blame him or you for that."  
  
Terry glanced out of the corner of his eye as he heard rapid footsteps  
racing towards them across the rooftop. Max and Bruce Wayne -that guy  
could run when he wanted!- were racing towards them, getting nearer  
every second.  
  
"The time for me to leave your side has come, my knight," Shadow   
said softly. She reached up and stroked his cheek, and pulled out of  
his grasp. She stepped away, her eyes never leaving his. On impluse  
she stepped forward again and caught his mouth once more with hers,  
briefly, but firmly, and then she was gone, racing away. Her wings  
flared into existence in a whirl of smoke, and she was gone, up into  
the night sky.  
  
Terry stared after her, even until Max reached his side, demanding to  
know what had happened. Bruce wasn't far behind, and although breathing  
heavier than he would have at one time, his glare was no less intense.  
  
For once, Terry didn't notice either. He looked down at his inner  
forearm, and for some reason wasn't at all surprised to see the five  
point crisscross star healed, only a scar. He looked down at his feet  
to see the daggar responsible for the scars there. He knelt and  
picked it up. The moment he touched it, it became a medallion, made of  
a metal as black as night. It was a circle, with a starburst in the  
center. The points of the star were the only things touching the  
circle. At the stop where the point touched the circle there was the  
deepest of dark sapphires. In the center of the star there was the  
blackest black diamond Terry had ever seen.  
  
Through a metal loop on the edge of the cirlce there was a fine silk  
cord. Terry knew better than to put on the medallion before having it  
tested, but he clutched it tight nonetheless as he turned his gaze  
back up towards the sky.  
  
"McGinnis!" Bruce's harsh bark finally cut through Terry's reverie, and  
he looked him stonily.  
  
"Terry..." Max touched his arm. "Terry, what happened? I tried to  
follow you when you left the diner, but..." She saw the expression on  
her best friend's face, and held up a hand at Bruce, cutting off his  
lecture. Had Terry been completely attentive, he would have been  
surprised; no one hushed Bruce Wayne.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow at school, Max," Was all Terry said after a  
moment. Withough waiting for a reply, he ran towards the edge of the  
roof, flared his gliders, ignited his boosters, and soared into the  
sky.  
  
As he flew towards home, he could have sworn it wasn't his imagination  
when a whisper of a promise drifted through his mind...  
  
'*This is far from over, my knight...*'  
  
'*It most certainly is, Shadow,*' Terry found himself agreeing,  
thinking the thought as if he was speaking it to someone right next to  
him. He smiled grimly.  
  
"It most definately isn't over..."  
  
  
  
The End.  
  
  
For Now.  
  
  
Ta da!!!!! Okay, I might put up a short epilogue, soon, but not till  
I'm well on my well with the fic I want/need to write.  
  
Sorry it took so long to get this out! As I said, I DO have somewhere  
I want to take this story, but not till I fulfill previously made  
obligations. This story is more of a prologue to another, deeper, more  
intense story that I have in mind.  
  
Once again, this entire story is dedicated to Smack45, whom without  
this fic would have been dead in the water several chapters ago. Also  
thanks to:  
  
Raven: As always, my beloved, my better half, the one who keeps me  
going.  
  
Rose-chan: My sister in Christ, my best friend, my favorite person to  
be around.  
  
Empress Yue: *hugglez* Thankies!!!!! One of my best supporters! Thanks  
for sticking with me!  
  
Andie: FINISH 'Batman's REAL?' ALREADY!!!!!! *halo* But besides that,  
thanks for your encouraging reviews! They really gave me a boost!  
  
And last but not least, my muses, Athena and Makura. *hugglez both*  
This story wouldn't exist without them!  
  
Untile next time, minna-chans!  
  
  
Smile More, Dream Always,  
Alexia Goddess  
  
  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


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